Warriors: The Shadow Within
by snowygrin
Summary: He curled his long tail around the tip of his nose, falsely reasurring himself that everything would be alright, that everything would be fine. But he knew it was pointless. When it came to the games, so he had heard, you were padding into a death trap. He had also heard, that if you do survive, you will not be the same. If you return, you are broken beyond repair.
1. The Choosing

Prologue

Snare, a small gray she-cat, sat tensed at the bottom of the well-worn oak tree. She knew what was coming, all the cats of the clans did, but she didn't want to accept it.

Every twelve moons, six cats from each of the clans were chosen by an elderly cat called Figstern. The twenty four cats who were chosen were sent out for a quarter-moon to train, then they were released into some remote place to fight to the death. This was all to prove which clan was strongest.

The time had come, and every cat dreaded it.

The moon had risen to its height. Figstern was wearily hobbling over to take his place in the tree. Cats shifted uneasily, Snare unsheathed her claws, digging them into the dirt, hoping she would find some sense of security.

Each cat was desperately longing for something. Some were twitching their tales anxiously, wanting to be chosen. Most were just praying to Starclan that they could go home and be safe. Snare just wanted the whole thing to end. Not just this time, but forever. She hated the entire thing with every morsel of her dread-filled being.

Figstern jumped atop a low hanging branch, causing it to sway dismally. The silhouette of the old cat was eerie and distorted in the moonlight.

"Cats of all clans," He began, his voice was weary and droning, as if he didn't want to go through the entire process had he had done so many times before. "I know that you have all been anxiously awaiting this moment. So I will hurry my small talk and soon announce the lucky victims, ah, did I say victims? I meant, erm-" He sat fidgeting for a moment than continued,

"Well, let's start with Riverclan shall we?" Snare relaxed slightly, she was not of Riverclan blood, Figstern wouldn't be announcing Thunderclan names until later.

"Moonfur, Badgermask, Berryridge-" He continued meowing out names until the six Thunderclan cats stood in front of the oak, facing the ever-silent crowd.

The night, which was overcast by clouds seemed to darken menacingly, as if it knew what a terrible time this was for the cats, but the moon somehow remained untouched by the wispy black clouds.

Figstern dipped his head respectfully to the six cats and continued,

"The Windclan competitors are the following: Fledgling, Bloodfang, Snowwhisker, Wormpike-" When he was finished listing Windclan names he announced in his rasping meow,

"Now the Thunderclan cats are as follows:-" Snare instantly tensed, freezing and digging her claws into the ground. The scent of fear was all to evident, emanating off of each of the Thunderclan cats' pelts.

"Whisperwind, Twistmud, Snare-" Snare couldn't hear any of the other names called. Had she heard wrong? Was that really _her _name that Figstern had just called? Surely he had made a mistake!

She walked up to sit with the other cats in a sort of trance, the resounding voice of Figstern a barely audible noise in the back of her mind. She had been chosen. She would have to kill or be killed.

_This can't be happening!_ She thought,

_I'm walking to my death._


	2. Training

Chapter One

Fledgling, a black tom with white paws and tail-tip, sat crouched in the old barn they used for training. He was one of the six chosen from Windclan. He was currently working on his hunting, he knew that he was able to hunt, but there would most likely be new types of terrains to hunt on and new types of animal to attack.

Fledgling crouched lower, silencing his swishing tail and peering through the towering haystacks. He crept further down, stopping when he spotted a mouse nibbling on a seed. He narrowed his yellow-green eyes, preparing for the leap.

An unkempt, ragged, brown tom leapt out in front of him, landing squarely on top of the unsuspecting mouse. Fledgling jumped up, ready to fight, fur bristling and teeth bared. The brown tom glanced coolly up at him,

"What do you want?" He asked, his voice was much smoother than his fur, almost leading Fledgling to drop the matter.

Fledgling forced his fur to lye flat. "That was my mouse." He hissed through clenched teeth. The brown tom looked up in mock sympathy,

"Oh, did the little kitty want his mousey back?" He let out a little chuckle of amusement then went back to tearing into the little creature.

"Listen, I don't care that you caught the mouse. It was a puny one anyways. Just watch where you're hunting next time." Satisfied with his little speech, Fledgling padded off, tail stuck in the air indignantly.

Badgermask sat huddled in the corner, trying hard to keep all the emotions that were threatening to overcome her from spilling over. She was waiting for her turn to try paw-to-paw combat. She knew she didn't really have much of a chance. Although she was quite tall and agile, she could never fight another cat, at least, not very fiercely. She simply wasn't all that strong.

She choked back tears as she thought of the moon or so that was ahead of her. Hiding, killing, screaming, fighting, and more hiding. How would she survive?

Her hopeless thoughts were interrupted by the voice of one of the trainers,

"Badgermask! Get over here!" She padded over to Hutchfrond, a trainer from her own clan, Riverclan,

"Listen, don't waist your time exposing your weaknesses to other cats, let's show 'em something to be afraid of." She whimpered,

"I don't think I can-" He cut her off,

"Don't say that. I know that you're amazingly fast and intelligent. You may not be so handy in strength, or in medical training either, but you sure know how to hunt and hide!" Badgermask twitched her tail, irritated, not sure whether or not to be flattered or angered by the comment.

Hutchfrond ignored her expression and gestured at the high barn loft,

"See how fast you can get up there, once you're up, practice some hunting. Later I'll take you out for some herb practice. Then you and I'll fight, don't worry, it'll just be a practice." He twitched his ears and padded away, going to help some other hopelessly lost contestant.

Badgermask narrowed her yellow-flecked eyes, determined not to let her emotions to take over her actions. She flexed her muscles, they were in good shape, for running and hunting at least. She waited only a moment before dashing over to the wall of the barn, claws outstretched to get a good grip. She skimmed the wall easily in only a few seconds, jumping into the loft.

She uttered a small and desperate prayer to Starclan, praying that they would give her strength and courage. She let out a little whimper, would she even manage to survive a few seconds in the games?


	3. The Last Night

Chapter Two

Shard licked at his sleek paw in, what he hoped, was a relaxed manner. _I'm prepared for this. _He thought to himself. His attempts at reassurance to himself were failing terribly.

The next day, the games would start. All the cats had been there for the entire quarter moon. Almost no cat would get sleep tonight, and those who did would have troubled and restless sleep dripping with the foul stench of nightmares.

Each cat was curled up in the glimmering moonlight. A particularly small and gray tom was lying curled up beneath a precariously tall haystack, trembling for all he was worth.

Shard cast a weary glance at him, then returning to his grooming. Hoping to appear cool and untroubled. Because, from what he heard, image, in these games, image was everything.

Shard lay down after what could have been hours. He was tired, but sleep was a rare thing on such a night.

He curled his long tail around the tip of his wet nose, falsely reassuring himself that everything would be alright, that everything would be fine. But he knew it was pointless.

When it came to the games, so he had heard, you were padding into a death trap. He had also heard, that if you do survive, and you return you are not the same.

If you return, you are broken beyond repair.


	4. The Games

Chapter Three

The cliff walls rose hundreds of tail-lengths into the air around the tributes, their weathered red surface was foreboding and only reminded the cats of what situation they were about to become a part of.

The tributes were being marched by a great number of guards to their dreaded destination. These guards were cats unknown to them, and unfortunately for the tributes, they were bore unnaturally long and sharp claws.

It was the night the games would begin. It was the night of death.

It was still early evening, and the air was heavy with the heat of last dying rays of the sun, which caused the canyon walls to glow a sickening shade of red.

Snare padded uneasily along with her ears perked. Her eyes darted from side to side, half expecting the guards to attack her. A particularly small tom who was stationed in front of her suddenly darted to the side. Crazed by the searing heat, he attempted to scrabble up the side of the cliff. Immediately two of the guards rushed over, unsheathing their long claws. Snare looked away, hearing the haunting yowls of the unfortunate tom echoing off the jagged rocks.

Night fell quickly, the prisoners padded along, not feeling the slightest bit of weariness that usually followed such a long trek. They were simply too full of fear of the circumstances they were entering.

They had exited the canyon several hours ago, the moon was steadily climbing in the sky and the sun had long disappeared behind the ever darkening, distant mountains.

Snare observed the moonlit environment. They had entered a forest. It was dense, with a large amount of undergrowth and a great many trees.

The guards were now each taking a prisoner. Snare was assigned to a large gray tabby who greatly resembled a lynx. He glared at her with narrowed eyes. She seemed to melt inside herself.

Each guard took their prisoner to the clearing where they all stopped. They sat, staring warily at each other for what seemed an eternity.

Snare closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe. Another guard padded out of the trees, his tail swaying gracefully behind,

"Welcome to the games." He meowed,

"Here is the one rule: you may not pass the marked border, and if you do, you will be killed." His eyes narrowed,

"May the odds be ever in your favor." Each guard held his or her tribute to the ground, using their powerful claws to keep them steady. The tom let an evil smile flicker across his face before yowling,

"Let the games begin!"


	5. Hunted

Chapter Four

Badgermask darted into the bushes, attempting to avoid the outbreak of fights in the clearing. The games had begun.

She kept her tail and ears low as she shot through the undergrowth, using all her speed and agility to escape from the blood-thirsty cats.

She ran for what seemed an eternity, her lungs expanding to the limit. She stopped when she could not go on, collapsing under a bush. She sat trembling. Her breath was coming in fast, shallow gasps.

SNAP!

Badgermask froze, holding her breath. She crouched down slowly, peering through the greening leaves.

A well-groomed, brown tabby padded slowly through the undergrowth, often stopping to listen for the sounds of approaching enemies.

Badgermask forced herself to relax, this cat didn't appear to be hunting, he looked to be a refugee like herself, only wishing to escape the hassle of cats.

She watched for a few moments longer, her lungs screaming for the air she refused to let in. A distant screech made it's way to their ears.

Finally, she stepped cautiously out from under the cover of the overgrown bush.

The tom turned towards her, he cocked his head, sitting down and wrapping his striped tail neatly around his paws,

"Greetings" He meowed, bending down to lick his paw. Obviously he saw no threat in Badgermask's sleek figure.

Badgermask remained silent, keeping her eyes trained on the strange tabby tom.

"Who are you?" She meowed after a few moments.

He glanced up from his grooming,

"A simple Shadowclan cat on the search for some easy game." His eyes narrowed to venomous slits. Badgermask took a tentative step back.,

"And I've found it." A menacing smile found it's way to his lips. Badgermask continued backing away.

The Shadowclan foe quickly got to his paws, advancing with each step she took..

"There's no need to worry! I'll make it quick and painless." He meowed. He crouched down, his large muscles clearly visible under his sleek fur. Badgermask saw them bunching in preparation for a leap. She whipped around and shot through the undergrowth, using what little strength she had left to escape this mad cat.

She could hear her opponent gaining, she risked a quick glance behind her and stumbled over a thick root. She flailed on the ground, hopelessly trying to right herself, but it was too late.

The Shadowclan cat was upon her. He pinned her down mercilessly, sneering slightly as he snarled,

"No use in running, little one. Tempest always catches his prey." He opened his jaws, preparing for the killing bite.

"But that doesn't mean he kills it!" She meowed bravely.

She struggled with the last of her energy, giving a sudden, but powerful, scratch to his eye. He let out an infuriated screech.

Hot, sticky blood trickled in steady streams to his eye, temporarily blinding him. He loosened his grip, reaching up to paw at his wound. She scrambled up, making a mad dash for the leafy foliage, soon after scaling a tall tree.

Tempest let out a hiss of frustration, calling out,

"You can run! But those who are chosen as Tempest's prey will not soon be forgotten! I will hunt you down, and when I find you, I will make your death a slow and painful one!"

He gave one last sweeping gaze over the surrounding territory with his good eye, then stalked off into the bushes, leaving drops of thick, scarlet liquid as a trail.

Tempest's warning rang in Badgermask's ears, causing a wave of intense fear to weave up her spine, causing her joints to stiffen as she sat, shaking on the branch.

_Is this my fate? _She wondered, _Is my destiny really to die at the claws of that monster?_


	6. Rescue

Chapter Five

Shard shrieked as his opponent's claws impaled his side, tearing mercilessly at his flesh, leaving strips of fur and chunks of flesh hanging unevenly. Shard summoned his strength and jerked suddenly to the side, catching his blond, Windclan foe off guard and knocking him off of his paws with a swift blow. The blond tom spat furiously as he struggled beneath Shard's weight. This Windclan cat had the upper paw, and was much stronger than Shard, but Shard had had a lucky blow, and managed to hold him. Shard raised his paw with one quick motion and-

THUD!

Shard's body was knocked painfully to the ground by a strong paw. The air was knocked from him and his breaths were ragged and painful. He struggled to his feet, trying to maintain consciousness, as he staggered across the clearing.

As he limped towards the bushes he glanced warily behind him, a decision he would regret forever.

There, struggling desperately beneath the paws of a large brownish red tom, was a bloodstained she-cat. The look of utter terror in her blue eyes took hold of Shard. Something deep inside him screamed at him not to let her die. Something he decided to listen to.

He stopped running and turned. He sprang towards the tom who held her with a ferocious yowl, claws unsheathed and arms outstretched, ready to shred his target.

He caught his victim by surprise, and some fury unknown to him rose inside of Shard as he brought down deadly blows upon the tom. Anger surged through his veins and he ripped viciously at the cat, sending him running towards the edge of the clearing.

"Quick!" Shard mewed to the she-cat, gesturing with a nod towards the distant trees. She got up, adrenalin rushing through her and enabling her to run across the clearing faster than one would have thought. Shard followed her closely behind, his ragged gasps stinging his raw throat. They didn't stop running until they were safely within the entangled branches of the forest.

The she-cat sat down, it was obvious she was in a great amount of pain, despite the fact she tried to hide it. She began licking herself awkwardly. Shard meowed,

"Are you alright?" The she-cat replied,

"Better this than dead." She paused, glancing up from her grooming,

"And thank you. I suppose I would be dead without you." Shard looked into her blue eyes. Shard thought that they looked just like mountain bluebirds, radiant in color, and yet, with their own mysterious song to sing.

"It was nothing." He meowed modestly, licking his chest fur, embarrassed. He winced as he began to lick his wounds, it was painful.

"My name's Snowwhisker." She meowed plainly. Shard stared at her ragged pelt, although it was still somewhat bloody, he could see that she was a pearly white. He felt somewhat calmed by the color.

He noticed that she was looking at him expectantly and asked,

"What?" She chuckled slightly,

"Are you going to tell me your name, or am I going to have to call you 'The mysterious cat who happened to save my life'?" Her laugh turned into a cough that racked her fragile being. Shard winced as her body shook in the spasms,

"I'm Shard." He meowed. She nodded,

"Shard…it fits you." She smiled, and continued,

"Well, I suppose after saving me like that you don't plan to kill me. At least, not yet. So I'm going to catch up on some sleep." She curled up under a nearby shrub, her tail brushing her nose and her white fur glowing slightly in the evening light.

Shard suddenly felt content, although he was amidst the place of death itself. He felt, some sort of change was coming. He smiled over at Snowwhisker as she slept, then curled up under a fallen tree branch and drifted into the calming abyss of dreams.


	7. Gone

Chapter Six

Fledgling whimpered pathetically as he stepped over the dead body of a tribute. His mind was jumbled with the images and thoughts of dead cats, sprawled across a field soaked in blood as he had seen before. He was lucky to have escaped. He staggered, unbalanced and confused, to a small, shallow pond.

He jumped at the sound of a cracking branch. His fur bristling, he peered into the bushes. Moments as long as eternity itself passed, but nothing moved.

He forced his fur down, quieting himself. He cursed under his breath to himself for being so jittery. He padded shakily over to a small pond that stood at his paws. He bent down, hoping to quench his thirst and his fear. He lapped at the water greedily, but as he drank, he noticed an odd reflection appear in the disturbed surface of the water.

He stopped, still hunched over as the water gradually stilled, the ripples moving farther and farther away from him.A reflection of a black cat shone clearly in the water, but it was not his own. The figure was a she-cat, her figure was sleek and bony. A smile seemed to flicker across her features for of a moment, and her green eyes narrowed to venomous slits. Fledging's eyes widened in sudden realization. This was his she-cat's jaws parted in a terrifying snarl, revealing long, yellowing teeth. An unbearable pain shot through Fledgling, causing him to shudder and fall to the ground. His body shook in a series of spasms, then fell still, as the world faded from Fledgling's grasp forever.


	8. Refuge

Chapter Seven

Snare sat atop a high branch. The oak leaves danced in the faint, evening breeze and the branch swayed gently, rocking her lullingly back and forth, pulling her into a trance of thoughts.

She shivered involuntarily as she remembered the night of choosing. The full moon and the knobby figure of Figstern looking tiredly over them. She could still smell the fear scent that had hung so heavily in the air. She recalled the shrieks of the cat in the canyon they had traveled through to get here, and the tom who had announced the start of the games.

She curled up, her tail wrapping around her nose and her claws digging into the thick, gray bark. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was terrified.

She lay there, trying to get some sleep, but couldn't. Her ears swiveled warily at the rasping of sudden gusts of wind. The wind was getting stronger, tossing her fur and ripping the leaves from their branches. It whistled painfully through her ears and seemed to blow the sun farther and farther away, streaking the sky red, and finally fading into a deep blue.

Snare climbed down from her perch, clutching the tree trunk with all of her strength, causing her already-tense muscles to ache agonizingly. She reached the forest floor in a state of exhaustion, her breaths were short and desperate, as if she could not get enough air, even though it brushed past her small body harder than before. Branches and forest debris were being tossed like worthless crow food by the wind.

Snare charged blindly through the forest, tripping and stumbling as she went. She didn't know where she was going, only that she wanted with all of her heart to escape the wind, the cats, this place. She yowled in frustration and despair. No other tributes seemed to hear.

She trekked unknowingly forward, her gray fur blending perfectly with the background. A large branch flew wildly into her side, causing her to yelp in pain. The sound was lost in the winds. Snare knew she had to find a place to stay, or she would die in this wind storm. She limped aimlessly over to an overgrown tree. Its roots grew out of the ground to form a sort of cave. Snare staggered inside, collapsing on the cold ground and curling up. Tangled roots dangled from the ceiling, protruding at odd angles and casting contorted shadows. She was exhausted, but she couldn't sleep, the wind howled restlessly outside, pounding ceaselessly against the den. The sound was hollow reminding her of how lonely she was. She closed her eyes, and tried to block out the world.


	9. Overheard

Chapter Eight

Basgermask's fur was being tossled softly by the now fading wind. The storm had scattered various debris across the forest floor, which was only partially visible as the moon shed its faint light on the forest floor. The stars were gradually fading as the morning sun neared.

She sat in a high branch of a large tree, hiding among the sparse greening leaves. She heard a rustle underneath and watched silently and wide-eyed as a small gray tom clambered desperately into an overgrown bush. She was about to call down to him when she heard paw steps. A great many paw steps.

A band of cats padded into the clearing that she sat above, her ears twitched nervously at the fresh scents, which were musty, mingled with the fresh scent of blood. She crouched down lower, straining her ears forward as their hushed voices drifted upwards to her.

"-and then he ran through here." A blond tom meowed. Badgermask's tail twitched fearfully, fiding that they must have been referring to the small Tom. A brown-gray tabby with blond streaks running down his pelt spoke up,

"I don't scent him. He must have moved on." A black she-cat moved forward, her green eyes glinting challengingly,

"He may have found some way to disguise his scent." Another black she-cat padded to stand with her, her blue eyes sparkling with anticipation,

"Let's search for him." Badgermask shuddered. Out of the corner of her eye there was the slightest trembling of the bush branch. She closed her eyes, praying to Starclan that the cats did not see that. The green-eyed she-cat stepped towards the bush,

"Never mind the search. I think I've found our little, lost treasure." Her voice ended in snarl. Her teeth bared. The blue-eyed she-cat sprang forward, grabbing hold of the poor gray tom and dragging him, kicking, into the clearing. She pinned him effortlessly to the ground and glanced over at the others, ignoring his desperate struggling.

Badgermask turned away as the she-cat opened her jaws, her many teeth glistening and glinting in the first rays of the early morning sun, ready to tear into her feeble pray. Badgermask wished she didn't have to listen to the painful, agonized screeches of the poor tom, they echoed from his half-lifeless body to the surrounding forest as he was ripped apart. Badgermask couldn't comprehend why any cats would want to do this. It tore her heart apart, ripping one little piece off at a time so that the process was long and painful, much like the fate of the small tom in the clearing. The tom who she would never know the name of.


	10. Hope Regained

Chapter Nine

Shard yawned, mouth opened wide, and body sprawled comfortably on the sun-warmed ground. He blinked his eyes open slowly and, regathering his thoughts, watched the blurry world come back into focus. Leaves rustled gently, soothing Shard and harmonizing beautifully with warm sunshine which stroked the ground lovingly with its rays.

His whiskers twitched as he observed this welcoming scene, but his insides twisted uncomfortably as he saw that Snowwhisker wasn't there. He forced his ruffled fur down, telling himself she was fine, and was most likely sitting by the river as she did each morning. But the thought of her being alone in this place caused a long shudder to prickle down his spine, and he began padding quickly in her direction.

He relaxed visibly as he spotted Snowwhisker's sleek figure outlined by the rising sun. Shard padded to sit beside her, the river lapping a few tail-lengths away from their paws. She turned her head from the glossy surface of the water to greet Shard, a smile dancing in her eyes. He felt something stir inside him.

"You were worried about me." She observed, eyeing him. He nodded reluctantly,

"I can't help it, not in a place like this." He sighed, it was a dry, unhappy sound, a sound that seemed to suck all the life out of the beautiful place and turn it into one disgusting word: death.

Snowwhisker's white fur glowed in the early sunlight, she smiled sadly at Shard, tucking her long tail delicately around her paws. Shard rasped his dry tongue against his chest fur, not sure what to say. Snowwhisker meowed,

"I can take care of myself you know. I just had an unlucky start." She glanced knowingly at him. He looked up, meeting her eyes and not looking away. There was something about her, something Shard couldn't describe. A good something.

Shard forgot about the things around him, the blood, the death, the evil. He found a new determination rising inside of himself. He made a decision. He would protect her. No matter what the cost.

"I know." He meowed back.

They sat in silence, but the world sang around them, the birds whistling, the water churning, and the rays beaming. As they padded back to their makeshift camp, tails twined, a new feeling stirred inside them.

Hope.

Hope for survival.

Hope for life.

Hope for love.


	11. Dead and Destroyed

Chapter Ten

Snare limped painfully to a small, trickling stream, crouching so that her ragged figure was close to the ground, as if somehow it could shelter her from the horrors of reality. A thick fog hung in the air, plastering her pelt awkwardly to her bony outline. She shivered, but not from the cold. Strange, sad memories were had been aroused in her mind, memories that had long ago been forgotten. Memories that she had hidden to protect herself. She stooped lower to lap the clear, rushing water, hoping it would clear her mind, but it only dragged her deeper into her painful past.

* * *

"Shimmer!" The call echoed in the small kit's ears as she lowered herself to the ground, using the overhanging fog like a cloak. Shimmer could scent her playmate as he neared, his gray coat masking him perfectly on the rocky slope. "I'm coming for you!" He mewed loudly, trying to intimidate her, but only causing a slight giggle to emerge from her throat. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun with Wind, the small kit who was looking for her now.

She tucked her tail underneath her, wiggling her haunches as she scented a cat approaching. A sudden and loud cry pierced the air. It rang with pain and horror, stopping as suddenly as it had begun.

Shimmer's eyes widened. She tensed, waiting several moments in a silence that seemed louder than a roaring waterfall.

She finally built up the courage to move, whether it would be towards or away from the sound, she didn't know. She advanced through the jagged rocks carefully, her paw steps echoing clearly off of the rocky outcropping. A thick, nauseating stench clawed down her throat. This scent was new to her, and she followed it, a foreboding curiosity grasping her mind, seeming to drag her forward, into the unknown.

A choking gasp escaped her as she stood, rigid with fear, at the sight that lay at her paws. Wind lay sprawled out before her. Some of his limbs bent at unnatural angles and his flesh shredded painfully. This was the scent. Blood.

His eyes stared sightlessly ahead, a terror contorted his expression and face so that he was almost beyond recognition. She padded forward, to young to comprehend death.

"Wind?" She mewed, "Are-are you okay?" She touched her nose to his pelt, it was cold, it was sticky with blood, as was the ground around him.

"Shimmer?" She spun around at the sound of the voice. A large, brown tom stood there, Flood. His face was etched with an expression so serious it made Shimmer's heart sink down to her paws. "Shimmer, what have you done?" He looked over her with a look of deep disbelief and sadness. Shimmer didn't understand what was happening. She ran over and buried her face in his fur, wanting comfort and understanding. Something bad had happened, and she didn't know how to fix it.

He pulled away from her, surprised. Fear glistened in his eyes. He yowled loudly and two more toms ran over to meet him, materializing from the fog eerily. One of them was Wind's father. He looked at her, but at seeing wind he ran over with a yowl of despair. Shimmer looked up at them, her large eyes wide with confusion and hurt.

* * *

Snare remembered that day vividly, and what followed broke her heart.

* * *

Shimmer was led to the leader of the Tribe of Rushing Water. Her silvery fur damp with water and blood. He looked down at her, his face a mask of heavy disappointment.

"Let all cats gather to hear a proclamation." He yowled. The cats gathered around, their faces confused as they scented blood."Good cats of my clan. It grieves my heart to tell you all that this kit, Light That Shimmers on Water, has killed, Wind That Blows Over Rocks." Gasps and cries of desperation arose in the air. "Shimmer is as much a murderer as her father before her." His words were dripping with disgust. Shimmer flinched at the word murderer. She had never heard it before, but she could tell it was even lower than crowfood.

Wind's father came in, dragging Wind's mangled body. His eyes were glistening with sorrow and hatred. And as he looked up at Shimmer, she could tell that the hatred was directed towards her. "She is no longer deserving of her name!" He yowled, anger strengthening his voice. The leader blinked slowly, thinking it over. He finally meowed,"The Tribe of Rushing Water is a forgiving and loyal clan. So we will be merciful to you." His look traveled around the room and ended on Shimmer. "You will not be put to death, as your mother and father were." Her throat tightened painfully at the thought of her parents. "You, Shimmer, are banished. And that shall be the last time you are called by that name. You will now be known as Snare. You are as deadly as a trap to all cats." He stared coldly down at her. "Go."

* * *

Snare sat, her expression tinted with sorrow at these memories. She could barely remember Wind. She didn't understand how the clan would accuse her of being guilty of murder. She didn't kill him. He was her , she hated that word. She would never murder. She straightened, even though it hurt both emotionally and physically. She would not be a killer. She would not.

* * *

**That was the longest chapter I've written yet! Yay me! I hope you liked this chapter. Was it believable. Do I need to fix something? Please inform me what you thought!**

**Thanks!**


	12. Nightmares

Chapter Eleven

Badgermask's breathing was quick, rapid, and fading. She was gulping down the dusty air with much effort. She had to escape. She had to. Her mind was racing with thoughts of terror, splattered with death. She didn't bother clawing those things out of her mind. There was nothing she could do.

Tempest was coming.

She prayed silently to Starclan. Everything was becoming unnaturally silent, slowing and emphasizing her anxiety. Her heart beat once...twice...

The fur on the back of her neck prickled uncomfortably. She turned.

One amber eye glowed eerily in the tangled undergrowth. Badgermask's heart stopped. An unexplainable terror gripped her paws so that she could not move. The stench of fear clasped the air tightly, not letting go, winding up the cats' nostrils and burning down the throat.

"I told you, kitty. Tempest always kills his prey." Tempest's voice was slow, slithering out of his throat like a snake. Cold. Evil. Terrifying.

Badgermask drew in a sharp breath, her eyes widening and her figure crouched in a cowering position. The distant screams of a cat in pain echoed forebodingly off of the forest walls, blackening them with death. Badgermask knew this was the took a step forward, not bothering to wait before lifting his paw and striking.

The world went hauntingly black.

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Badgermask awoke gasping. Her nightmares were becoming more and more frequent. This was the worst yet. She sat up, tense and breathing harshly. She stretched, attempting to calm herself. But how could she be calm, when she knew that Tempest could by hunting her down at that moment?

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**Thanks for reading this chapter! Sorry it was a bit shorter. **

**I hope you enjoyed it! Please tell me what you thought. **


	13. Hearts Entwined

Chapter Twelve

Shard was crouched under a thick, greening bush. He leaned slightly, favoring his wounded leg. His mind was focused on one thing, and one thing only. Prey.

The moist dirt softened his slow approach, cushioning his raw pads. The magpie his eyes were locked on chirped sweetly, oblivious to the fact that its death was upon it. Shard waggled his haunches, his large muscles bunching as he pounced, landing mostly on top of the bird, but stumbling pathetically over the feathers, but managed to maintain control. The bird let out one last feeble squawk as Shard gave the killing bite, silencing the unfortunate creature forever.

He picked up his prey, it was still warm, the heart had only just beat for the last time. He made slow, but steady progress through the thick foliage, turned awkwardly because of the burden he was dragging. His heart leapt with anticipation as he pushed through the last few leaves, stumbling into the clearing where Snowwhisker sat, her tail flicking impatiently.

"I told you I should have come with you! I could have helped you drag that thing back to camp." She meowed wistfully, a hint of play in her tone. Shard shrugged his shoulders. Snowwhisker rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. Shard padded over to her, dropping his load at her feet and then laying down a few paw-lengths away,

"Dig in." He meowed. Snowwhisker shook her head,

"You eat it." Shard pushed it farther towards her," I dragged it all the way back here for you. I'm not hungry, you can have it." She glanced at him warily, with a hint of gratefulness in her expression. She may have been considerate, but despite her selfless personality, she was famished.

When she was about half way finished, she nudged it over to him,

"You eat the rest. I don't need it." He looked at her, unsure whether to accept it or not. She smiled halfheartedly, her blue eyes sparkling dazzlingly in the morning rays of sun,

"Eat it, I've had my fill." She moved forward slightly, then licked him gently on the cheek. He looked up at her, surprised, and yet, a warm, happy feeling boiled inside him.

They sat together, watching the sun dwindle slowly in its decent, the colorful rays dancing across the sky in a beautiful ballad. Their tails were twined, their bodies brushing one another. The sun was beginning to disappear behind the distant, jagged peaks, staining the sky with a mysterious red and dappling the trees with distorted shadows that intertwined with darkening bark of the trees, creating an eerie, majestic setting.

Shard noticed how mysterious Snowwhisker's eyes were, as she sat, gazing bravely at the dying rays of the sun. They were deep, majestic, and unknown as if, somehow a cat could dive into them and see that there was something there. Something beautiful.

_She is so brave. _He thought sadly, _She's being brave for me, to comfort me. _He admired this about her.

He then felt a feeling that he had never truly felt before. It tickled his insides and made him want to get closer to her, as if nothing in the world mattered. Nothing but her.

It was a beautiful feeling. It was love. Love.

It curled inside of him, warming him more than the brightest rays of sunlight, and sinking deeper into him than the longest roots. He loved her. And he would not let go.

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**Thank you so much for you support eveybody! I am so happy you guys are reading, and I appreciate all of my reviews! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)**


	14. Wind

Chapter Thirteen

There was a thick scent of death dripping from the thick fog that hung over the forest. The tall trees were overgrown, overlapping and creating the sense of a rotting trap. Snare crept through them quietly, her ears twitching. It was silent, the kind of silence that someone could take advantage of in the night, snatching you away, never to return.

She stayed low, darting blindly through the fog across little spaces, until she found a small bush or shrub to take refuge under. Snare didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was terrified. She was desperately scared. She hated that feeling.

As she scampered through the undergrowth her neck fur rose unintentionally. She stopped where she was, her only cover was the eerie fog. The world mapped out around her as a greying, wispy mist. It clung to her, penetrating her fur and causing long, racking shivers to run down her spine. She silenced her faltering breaths as her fur bristled visibly. Someone was following her, and she knew it.

Snare closed her eyes, remembering finding her friend dead in the chilling fog, splayed out on the icy outcropping like rotting prey. Now it was her turn. She heard gentle paw steps, foreboding steps. The steps that indicated her end.

She turned around, slowly, wanting to see who would take her life. Her eyes reflected indifference as she saw a black she-cat with slitted eyes standing a few tail-lengths away. She no longer cared. Tension spiderwebbed between the two, a song of sharp emotions flooded through Snare. She blinked slowly, giving up. She had nothing left to live for. The black she-cat advanced a few steps, her eyes locking on Snare. Snare closed her eyes and whispered her last word,

"Wind."

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**Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! I'm so sorry I've been taking so long. I have been extremely busy with school and my birthday. :)**

**Thanks again!**


	15. A Heart Torn in Two

Chapter Fourteen

Shard blinked open his eyes drearily, stretching. His pelt was hardened with the thick frost that had slinked in during the night, causing his fur to stick out sharply at odd angles. He glanced around the makeshift den, thin roots dangled like claws outstretched from above, but Snowwhisker was absent.

He dismissed this with the flick of an ear. She was always in the same place, always by the trickling riverbed, a smile planted on her face, ready to greet him. His whiskers twitched in anticipation. He couldn't wait to see her again. He had never felt this strongly about any cat before.

He padded forward, a little trot in his step. He felt a tickling sensation every time he thought about her. He smiled to himself. Today would be the day. Today he would express his true feelings to her.

His black pelt shimmered like a fish's scales in the pre-dawn darkness. The silhouette of ashen trees whispered unheard words of despair, their long, eerie limbs swaying and their few leaves dancing to a song of death. Stars dangled above him, twinkling mischievously before they would disappear as the new day dawned.

Something moved out of the corner of his eye. He stopped, looking all around, scanning the blackened forest for signs of life. Nothing. After one last glance he continued padding forward, less sure than before. A foreboding feeling dug its way into the pit of his stomach, clawing at him violently. Something wasn't right, he could feel a sudden change in the atmosphere. A sickening screech rose into the air. Its notes were high and desperate, fading into silence. He immediately changed his pace to a staggering sprint.

The wind flowed through the trees, sympathy ebbing in its wake. Terrible thoughts began to creep into his mind, taking hold and refusing to let go. But one question controlled all of his motives: was Snowwhisker alright?

He ran through the forest at full pelt, his lungs extending to their limit, his eyes streaked with tears from the effort. When he finally broke through the tangle of undergrowth, his eyes desperately scraped the landscape around him. Terror and dread crawled into his being as he groped for some sign of Snowwhisker. Then Shard froze.

His pelt prickled uncomfortably at the thick, repulsive scent of death. It wrapped itself around him, skimming his pelt and stinging his nostrils. He turned in the direction of the sickening stench. Blood stained the clear water, tainting its beauty and masking it to be some terrible trap as it flowed eerily down its path. Whatever or whoever had died was close.

He followed the red flow, pushing back the reeds as unintentional spasms of fear racked his body. Death was heavy in the air. It burdened him with more than he could handle. He pushed back a tangle of green stalks, to find the victim sprawled out on a small bank. He let out a desperate cry and stood, rigid, at the sight. Snowwhisker.

Her sweet body was lying on the ground, her glossy white fur plastered to her body by hot, sticky blood. It flowed from her freshly. Her eyes, with their once magnificent color were drained and glazed over, lifeless and giving her the appearance of some unintelligent prey that had just been robbed of its life. Her rotting body looked weak and terrified. She was frozen forever in fear, reminding Shard of when he first met her.

This sight would haunt Shard forever. It sunk its grip deep into his heart, ripping at it till only shreds of something that had once been good remained. Shard died inside of himself. "I-I love you..." He whispered, despair draining the color of his words. "I always will."

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**Hey there, readers! I'm so, so, so sorry it's been taking me so long to update! I've been super busy with school and stuff...ugh. Anyways, I will try as hard as I can to update more frequently. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	16. Threats in the Night

"This is taking too long." Complained the youngest of the band, Bloodfang. His words were ignored by most, but Swiftstrike added,  
"We have been here nearly half a moon."

Wormpike, a tall, blond tom stretched, extending his intimidatingly long claws. He scraped them against the smooth, hard surface, not even flinching at the unpleasant screeching they emitted. He was the largest, and strongest in the group, besides Twistmud. But, because of his youth and cunning, he was elected the leader of their makeshift gathering.  
"We'll move when it's time." He assured the band of cats that sat grimacing around him.  
"What if all the others have already killed eachother?" Bloodfang brings up, his ears suddenly dropping down as he looks around. He seems afraid that some cat might kill him on the spot.

A brown tabby slips through a gap in the bushes, entering the small, moonlit space.  
"There's a fresh scent of a cat by the river." He glances hesitantly with his one eye at Wormpike, "I think it's time to move." Wormpike sits back on his haunches leisurely.  
"So soon?" He meows sarcastically. The brown tabby shifts his weight, causing Bloodfang to shift at the sight of his inflamed, oozing eye.  
Wormpike grins a sickening smile, "It's time for a battle these fools will never regret."

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**Author's Note**

****Thanks for taking the time to read this! Sorry it's so short. I might not be able to update for a little while because I'm working on several other stories at the moment. But, hopefully, I will write the next few chapters soon.


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